Clare Sager

He touched his forehead to mine. “Are you ashamed?” His voice was gentle.

The only answer I could give was opening my eyes.

“Your pretty pink cheeks say you are.” He stroked one cheek, then kissed the other. “You shouldn’t be, though. Do you want the things in that book?” He nodded to the floor, where it lay discarded.

“This isn’t about me having you. It’s about you doing what you want, rather than following the rules someone else has imposed on you that aren’t even for your own good.” He bent closer, gaze so intense I couldn’t look away. “No one else gets a say in who you share your body with or what you do with it. No one.

“Didn’t Lara’s death remind you how damn short your life is?” He spoke with a low ferocity. “Too short to deny yourself. Too short to spend it locked up in other people’s rules.” He released my shoulders. “Consider that next time someone offers you cake. It’s there to be eaten. Just like life is to be enjoyed.”